


The End in the Beginning

by Enchantable



Series: Full Circle [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Major Character Injury, Presumed Dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-17
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-23 20:14:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/930658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantable/pseuds/Enchantable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck never got a chance for a deathbed confession, Herc does it for him</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End in the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Post-movie: Herc tells Mako how Chuck felt about her. *sobs*

"He always regretted leaving you."

Mako looks over at Herc and tells herself that it’s the whiskey talking. Problem is that it is the whiskey talking and the whiskey has no reason to lie to her. Not like the man who always tried to protect her as much as Stacker. She tightens her hand around her own drink and looks at him, but Herc’s eyes are on the amber liquid in front of him.

"Never talked about it," he continues, “never talked about anything really," he gives a little laugh, “boy was focused on one thing only. Being better than his old man."

She doesn’t say anything because she knows that’s true. It is—was—Chuck’s obsession. Be the best. It is hers as well. Be the best. Kill the Kaiju. Show humanity that there is still reason to hope even if you’ve got none yourself. He swirls the glass around before taking a long drink and shaking his head. Mako waits quietly for him to continue but when he does she wishes he hadn’t. 

"He didn’t want to make my mistakes," he says shaking his head, “guess I wasn’t the best example of a normal, loving relationship," he looks over at her, “that’s why he left you know. To prove he could. To show he could rip out his heart and he’d be fine," he finishes his drink and signals for another, “cheeky shit. Some things you just can’t do."

Mako cups her own drink and tries not to down it all. Stacker has taught her not to numb her pain but to deal with it. She wishes sorely she was a worse student so she could drink the whole damn bar. She knows what Herc is saying is true. Knows that every snarky word, every egotistical remark was directed at her. The fact that he knows the real reason makes it all the worse. How she just sat there. How it wasn’t just the nobility of not wanting him to sacrifice his dream that kept her in school, that made her break her—their promise. It’s so tragic she finally gives in and finishes her drink. 

A lifetime should not be spent letting someone leave and hoping that they will say you are enough. That you, with all your broken pieces, you are reason enough to stay. 

Herc shakes his head and mutters something about people being stupid, but whether he’s referring to Chuck, himself or her she has no idea. She doesn’t really care either because it’s getting harder to see. She blinks furiously before excusing herself, trying to ignore Herc’s gaze on her back. 

She means to go to her own room, truly she does. But her traitorous feet have other intentions. Chuck and Herc defy the pilot stereotype. They each have their own rooms. Chuck’s is unlocked. Mako thinks for a moment that maybe he knew but her question is answered when she opens it and sees Max curled forlornly on the bed. 

A shuddering gasp escapes her lips as the smells hit her nose. 

She’s been holding back tears for days. They aren’t shameful, she’s never thought of them as shameful. But the world is looking to her for strength. And truthfully Mako isn’t sure that she’ll be able to stop when they finally come. She fights against them but her feet carry her forward as Max turns to look at her and it’s as if the dog knows everything Herc’s said. 

The idea of Chuck talking to Max—something she knows he did often—is what sends her over the edge. Her knees buckle as she collapses into herself. She buries her face in her arms, her nose in his bedspread and finally weeps. Not just for him but for Stacker and the other pilots and Gipsy who is nothing more than ash. She weeps because she’ll never see them again and Stacker’s told her to find him in the drift space but she cannot see a way to go there again. Max curls against her left arm but Mako cannot bring herself to pet him. 

She sleeps on the floor next to his bed after she cries herself into exhaustion.

They give her the position of Herc’s assistant while they figure out what the hell to do with the Jaeger program. People want them to reinstate it but they aren’t sure why. But the Shatterdome houses hundreds of people. Mako knows how it works and for all that Herc is deserving of the position, he has no idea. He’s a solider, not a leader. 

Chuck’s room becomes her office.

She tells herself it’s easy. She can get to Herc anytime she needs him. And being there gives them an excuse to keep the room, a better one than the fact that Max will not leave it except to go on walks. If the only changes are her papers and the two duffles stay tightly zipped under the bed, well, no-one is foolish enough to say anything. 

She throws herself into her work. Raleigh does the same. He understands, most of the time Mako thinks he’s the only one who can. The three of them become their own broken little unit, sharp edges all scraping together as they try to figure out how they fit. It takes a month for her to learn how to sleep again, how not to look up at the war clock, how not to clutch her dog tags and wait for the chance to prove herself worth of Gipsy Danger. 

One night when sleep is not coming easy she sits up with Max in her lap and her tablet in front of her. She’s not reading the reports she’s supposed to, but she’s so lost in thought that when the door opens she doesn’t hear it. 

The shuffle of feet is so familiar she tightens her fingers and waits for a moment before turning around. Herc gives her a sleepy wave and she tries to return it but she thinks if she moves she’s going to go to pieces and then she’ll really be of no use to anyone. 

When the door opens again she’s ready and she sighs a bit louder than necessary. 

"You should be in bed," she says to Raleigh.

"That’s a little hard when you’ve turned my room into your fucking office."

The voice is hoarse but it’s unmistakable. Mako is on her feet before her mind catches up. Max barely makes it off her lap but he’s barking so loudly she thinks half the base might wake up. He looks, in a word, horrible. His arm’s in a sling and there are bandages wrapped around most of him. He looks like the fighters in those world war II books Raleigh likes to read. 

But he’s there. 

Soaking wet, in clothes that are too big, he’s there. Max barks louder and Chuck looks at him with a wince. He’s there and he’s injured and Mako is so torn between hating him and loving him she cannot move. He glares at her with his one visible eye and all Mako can see is anger and hurt. 

"Well?" he prods, “what are you—"

She’s crossed the distance before he can get the words out and wrapped her arms around him. Everything goes tense and stiff, like she’s struck him but Mako can’t bring herself to care. His heart is a steady beat against her chest as she closes her eyes and realizes how much his scent has faded from the room. They stand there like that for a minute, him tense and her so relieved she is having trouble standing. Then he swears.

"Fucking hell," he mutters and Mako knows that he knows. 

She tightens his arms around him but when he tenses further she lets him go. He reverts back to the safest place and glares at her, the fraction of hurt vanishing. She quickly picks up her tablet and gives him the most dignified bow she can vanish before slipping away. 

She doesn’t sleep because she’s afraid she’ll wake up and he’ll be gone. 

He isn’t. 

The story comes out quickly and flies around like wildfire. Stacker forced him into the pod but the timing was off. The thing got him within thirty feet of the surface. Then, because drowning was not on Chuck Hansen’s acceptable ways to die, he blew the pod and kicked to the surface. He was picked up by locals and because everyone these days wants to be a hero, they decided to make sure he was alright themselves. 

It’s taken Chuck two months to recover enough to escape. 

It seems the only person Chuck doesn’t want to kill is Raleigh and only because he’s kind of impressed the wash up managed to pull off blowing up the Kaiju masters. He’s furious at his father, at Mako and, Mako thinks, at himself for being hurt. Emotions are a weakness to him. And that’s all he’s feeling. 

She is finally forced to break their not speaking/not looking rule when she has to collect her papers from what was once her office and is now his room. 

She knocks and no-one answers. When she nudges the door it opens. Carefully she steps inside, feeling as though she’s invading somewhere personal. Or maybe just somewhere she isn’t welcome. Max lifts his head and pants happily at the sight of her. Which is pretty much all the warning she gets before the bathroom door swings open and Chuck steps out wearing nothing but a towel that’s low on his hips. 

"Damn lock’s broken," he curses, glaring at the door. 

Mako swallows thickly and mutters something before turning and shoveling papers into the box she’s brought. He says nothing more to her, just grabs clothes and retreats to the bathroom. Mako exhales and closes her eyes, her fingers tightening on the file she’s holding before she sets it back in the box. She gathers the most important things and tells herself she’ll find a way to get the rest of it while avoiding this situation.

"I am sorry," she says when the bathroom door slides open. 

"Sensors broke," he says, his voice clipped, “you couldn’t have known."

She wants to tell him she isn’t sorry for that but the words stick to her throat and she bobs her head, turning and heading for the door. 

"Coward," he mutters and the box almost drops from her hands. 

"I am not a coward!" she says turning around and glaring at him, “you are!" 

He looks surprised for a moment before his features close off and the overwhelming urge to smack him rushes back. 

"How am I a coward?" he demands rounding on her, “I saved the world and then I saved myself," he snarls, “I did all of that. You’re all just pissed because I don’t need any of you!"

Mako looks at him and fights the emotion that threatens to rip out of her. He stares her down and she forces herself to focus, to breathe like Stacker taught her. 

"You’re right," she says and her voice is pleasingly steady, “you don’t need anyone." 

She bows and walks out. 

The next day Chuck is in the infirmary after re-breaking his hand. 

She avoids him like the plague after that because if one visit makes him do that, she doesn’t know what a longer amount of time spent together would. Raleigh tells her not to worry but Mako doesn’t know how she can’t. Even Herc is worried. They’re all broken, all sharp pieces, but his are sharper. They’re more brittle. Some days it feels like all the do is watch him out of the corner of their eyes for the day when he finally breaks. 

It happens on a Tuesday. 

Mako will never know how she knows this. None of them see it. She only does because when the thoughts are really too much she goes to the roof sometimes and looks up at the top of the dome and remembers the old alien movies her dad showed her. How creatures should come from the sky not the sea. Except this time when she goes up Chuck is already up there and he’s not there to contemplate stars. 

"Chuck!" she calls his name before she can stop herself and he turns around so quickly she almost screams he’s so close to the edge. 

He looks at her. It’s raining hard and she shoves her hair behind her ears as she climbs out onto the ledge. 

"Go back inside," he says and she shakes her head. 

"No."

He gives a hollow laugh. 

"Go inside, Mako," he says and his voice softens ever so slightly. 

"Not without you."

He stiffens but she can’t wait any longer. 

"We said together," she calls to him over the rain, reminding him of the broken promise neither have forgotten. 

"He never should have told you," Chuck retorts.

"But he did," Mako shoots back.

"Because he’s a fucking idiot who can’t keep his nose where it belongs!" Chuck snaps. 

"Because I deserved to know!"

"You deserved to hear it from me!" he shouts back and Mako forgets how to breathe for a moment, “all those years if you had—" he stops but emotion makes her brave.

"Me?" she sputters, “you’re the one who left!"

"You’re the one who didn’t give me a reason to stay!" 

She runs her hand through her hair before looking at him. At all the hurt and the pain and the anger they’ve let build between them. He’s so reckless and she’s so controlled now. They were a match, opposites with just enough similarities. Now they are truly opposites, truly sides of the same coin. She wants to shake him until he sees what she’s trying to say, but all she can focus on his how close she is to losing him again. 

"Stay," she says. 

He looks at her hesitantly, suspiciously but she returns his gaze steadily.

"Stay," she repeats. 

When they’re inside the relief is so all encompassing that she wraps her arms around him. Just like before he stiffens. It isn’t just that he’s being hugged, it’s that someone is hugging him. She closes her eyes and tells herself after another moment she’ll let go. Even if she doesn’t want to. 

Except after a moment, he seems to soften. 

The arms that wrap around her are tentative and Mako wonders when the last time someone touched him was. She tells herself it doesn’t matter as she closes her eyes and holds onto him. He moves slightly but it’s only to turn a bit and get a better grip around her. They’re both soaking wet and Mako imagines they’ll have colds soon.

It’s impractical.

She doesn’t care.


End file.
